


Lights Out

by lasersheith



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Halloween, Happy Birthday Keith!!!, Humor, M/M, but not really, i'm realizing i accidentally ship shiro/head trauma a lot rip, keith's birthday, meet ugly, spoopy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 06:10:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16382807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasersheith/pseuds/lasersheith
Summary: Keith loves Halloween. For his birthday, his friends treat him to a spooky adventure. Who knew a zombie attack could be so... romantic?Keith took the lead again, opening the door and pausing to let everyone catch their breath before continuing through the maze. With a quiet, determined nod from Romelle, they continued on. The silence in the hall was thick with foreboding; the hair on the back of Keith’s neck stood on end with the uneasy feeling.Suddenly, hot breath warmed his left cheek, far too high to be anyone but Romelle, though she was ducking to his right. The faintest hint of a snarl made her shriek with terror, fingers digging into the worn fabric of Keith’s jacket around his waist.





	Lights Out

"Make a wish!" Romelle squealed delightedly as she carefully set the cake down on the table. An inadvisable number of colorful candles burned in a haphazard pattern.

Keith grinned as he looked up at her gratefully, turning to Pidge and Ina across from him. "Don't really know how it gets much better than this," he said with a faint blush.

"Quit being a sap and blow out the candles," Pidge murmured. "I wanna get there right when it gets dark."

Keith rolled his eyes and thought for a moment.  _ I don't need anything,  _ he mused grumpily as he watched Ina flick Pidge's nose, chiding her for being mean to the birthday boy before leaning in to kiss her cheek.  _ Yeah, that would be kinda nice. _

He figured that was close enough to a wish and took a deep breath, trying hard not to laugh as wax sprayed across the lumpy chocolate frosting when he let it out. Romelle clapped loudly, another giddy noise bubbling up from her chest. "Happy birthday!" She patted him on the back, handing him a knife to cut the cake.

Pidge glared at him across the table as he took his time removing the candles and setting them aside, going slower as she grew increasingly more impatient. Closing one eye, Keith held the knife out and pretended to measure the entire thing before finally sliding it home. Pidge looked like she was about to vibrate out of her seat.

He tried to avoid the worst of it as he cut pieces for the rest of them, but deciding to put that many candles on a cake had repercussions that they were all going to have to live with. The least waxy slice was reserved for Romelle, since she'd gone through all the trouble of making the cake in the first place. Romelle didn't seem bothered at all by the wax as she took a large bite.

"Oh no," she groaned, face paling. "Oh, I'm sorry, Keith, this is terrible."

Keith laughed. "I'm sure it's not that bad." To prove his point, he scooped a healthy portion onto his own fork.

It wasn't  _ the worst  _ thing he'd ever put into his mouth, but it was far from the best. He did his best to swallow without a grimace. "'S fine," he assured, swallowing hard again as the icing seemed to stick to his teeth and halfway down his throat.

"I tried to follow Hunk's recipe... I think he's still mad we decided to go to a haunted house." Romelle blushed, sheepishly clasping her hands on her lap.

Keith looked up at her with a soft smile. "It's no big deal, Ellie. 'Preciate the thought." He stood up and squeezed her shoulder. 

Pidge groaned as she set her fork down on her plate and shoved it towards the center of the table. “It’s fine, we can just grab some cupcakes or something later, come on!” 

Laughing, Keith made his way past her to pick up his hoodie from the arm of the couch. The girls followed after him, shrugging on their coats as they made their way to Keith's car. He grinned as everyone piled in and buckled up, starting up his  _ spooky  _ playlist. Monster Mash blared from the tinny speakers in the small sedan, echoed by three bouts of excited laughter.

They sang along with the campy Halloween-themed music the entire ride to  _ The ScareHouse.  _ Keith frowned as they pulled into the gravel parking lot. "It looks kinda lame, Pidge." He turned around and gave her an unimpressed look.

She dropped Ina's hand and pointed a finger at him. "It's a crappy old warehouse on the outside, but Matt promised it was the coolest haunted house he'd ever seen," she replied defensively.

"I'm sure that has nothing to do with him working here." Romelle snarked as she unbuckled her seatbelt with a wry grin. Her hand paused with the door halfway open as she realized none of her friends had followed suit. "Hurry up! I'm already losing my nerve!"

Ina gave a smile, leaning forward to put her hand on Romelle's shoulder. "Don't worry, there isn't any real danger. The actors aren't allowed to touch you," she assured.

"And if they do, I'll kick their asses," Keith promised with a smirk.

With that the four of them were laughing again as they got out of the car. Pidge fished the tickets out of her hoodie pocket and handed one to everyone before taking Ina's hand again and leading them to the already long line. Keith laughed when Romelle shrieked, practically jumping onto his shoulders as a man in  _ Hellraiser  _ makeup snarled at them from the other side of the stanchions.

Ina tilted her head, studying his costume. "I wonder how long it took to glue that many pins to his face?" She mused, tapping her chin.

Pidge looked up at her, eyes soft and sparkling in the last light of the sun as she smiled, working out the math. "If the glue takes an average of 20 seconds to cure to the point of rigidity, and there are 8 rows of 12 pins..."

Keith nudged Romelle in the arm and gestured with his head over at them. The pair laughed as Pidge and Ina did the math, hearts in their eyes as they worked through all the variables together.

Jumping and groaning at every increasingly more frightening costume, Romelle gave up on letting go of Keith's arm. "You didn't have to come, I know this isn't really your scene," Keith murmured apologetically, turning them to keep a man in pig mask holding a huge, bloody butcher knife as far away from her as possible.

She squeezed her eyes shut and moved closer to him, ducking her head away from the pig-man. "No, you love this. And it's your birthday. I'm your best friend, I'm here." She was practically shivering in fear.

He laughed and knocked their heads together lightly. "Thanks."

  
Keith shoved his free hand into his pocket and looked around as they slowly worked their way to the front of the line. Halloween had always been his favorite holiday and he'd been looking forward to this for weeks. 

When they reached the front, he jumped as a little girl, face painted stark white, wearing a black wig and white-out contact lenses paused and looked up at him with an evil grin. "You're next!" She croaked, laughing at Romelle's terrified whimper. "Have fun," she finished in a bone-chilling sing song as she made her way down the rest of the line.

Pidge blanched. "I can't tell if that's a really tiny adult, or if we just met a future oscar-winner." She gripped Ina's hand tightly.

"Her bone structure was consistent with an 8 to 10 year old child, but that doesn't rule out the possibility of a genetic disorder," Ina supplied helpfully with a cheerful smile.

But before Pidge could respond, a bored teenager at the front of the line clicked the velvet rope open and held his hand out for their tickets. Romelle was quaking with fear at his side as Keith led the group through the set of large metal doors.

Their fate was sealed with a loud bang, the slamming doors plunging them into almost pitch darkness. "Just stay close," Keith whispered, slowly walking forward. His eyes adjusted slowly, revealing the faint glow in the dark paint on the walls. "I think there's a light up ahead."

He squinted as they edged their way down the hall to a gap with a flimsy cardboard door. Rolling his eyes, he shoved it open and gasped in surprise. His eyes roved over the decorations excitedly, but the painful squeeze to his arm made it clear Romelle wasn’t as enthused. The small plasterboard-walled room had been expertly rendered into a creepy asylum straight out of  _ One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. _

Grinning, he turned to look back at Pidge, but had to stifle a laugh as he saw her clung to Ina's arm almost as scared as Romelle was. “Hey Leif, trade ya,” he teased. 

Ina stifled a chuckle, leaning down to whisper reassurances into Pidge’s ear.

The woman sitting in the corner in a blood-stained straight jacket looked up at them with a vacant stare. She tilted her head slowly. "Help me, before he comes back, help me, please," she begged, voice almost too soft to hear.

"Before who comes back!?" Romelle buried her face in Keith's shoulder as he tugged her gently along.

The door on the other side of the makeshift room thundered open and a man in a lab coat with a large syringe full of a slimy green liquid beamed at them. "Ah! You must be my new patients!" He cackled, stalking towards them.

"Just visiting actually," Keith said with a laugh, waving his hand dismissively. "You ok, Ellie?" He whispered as the man walked past them towards Ina and Pidge. She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Are you sure? I've been wanting to practice my lobotomies lately!" He pulled an ice pick out of one of his coat pockets and thrust it towards Pidge.

Her face paled as she ducked behind a chuckling Ina. "I don't think that's been properly sterilized for surgery," Romelle scolded from halfway under Keith’s arm, but made no move to intervene.

The doctor laughed maniacally again. "Oh well, SHE won't mind!" He turned around and headed for the woman in the corner.

Keith was halfway inclined to stay and see what the actors would do if they didn't leave, but Romelle was already dragging him towards the door. The four of them spilled out into another darkened hallway, chuckling nervously as they continued on.

The stark silence when they first entered the corridor contrasted sharply against the faint circus music filtering in from the other end. Keith quirked an eyebrow as they approached, opening the door cautiously in case something jumped out. 

The floor and walls were painted with swirling glow in the dark lines in curlicues that made Keith's head spin as he tried to entire the room. He cocked an eyebrow at the clown leaning up against a wooden box, covered with a velvet blanket.

"Welcome to the  _ freak show!"  _ He cackled, earning another shriek from Romelle and an uncomfortable groan from Pidge.

"I hate clowns," Pidge whimpered.

The clown grinned, his dingy teeth standing out against his tarred mouth, glowing an unearthly yellow in the black lights. "You wanna see what's behind the curtain?" His voice came out like gravel as he ruffled the cloth teasingly.

Keith was impressed, the actors so far had been excellent and he was more than a little curious about the attraction. "What is it?"

Romelle's grip on Keith's arm tightened as the clown ripped the blanket free and revealed a jar. Squinting, Keith took a half step closer and grimaced with a laugh. "Ugh, that supposed to be a head?"

Ina cocked her head to the side and took a closer look as well. "I think it is," she murmured. "Can I touch it?" She looked up at the clown hopefully.

"Only if you want to take its place!" A voice called from behind them.

The four screamed and jumped forward, turning their heads towards the sound. Pidge shrieked again as her eyes landed on a second clown holding an empty jar in one hand and a machete in the other. "NOPE!" Pidge grabbed Ina's hand and dragged her to the door at the far side of the room. Keith followed, laughing as he pulled Romelle along at a less urgent pace.

Pidge shivered when they were back out in the hallway, dropping Ina's hand to wrap her arms around her chest. "Clowns are the worst, oh my god."

Keith smirked. "Come on, Pidge, they're just dudes in makeup," he teased.

"Historically, several of the most well known serial killers at the turn of the century made their livings as clowns," Ina supplied with a smile. “Logically speaking, Katie’s right to be scared,” she finished with a kiss to her temple. 

"Let's just... finish being here, please." Romelle shuddered at Keith's side, dropping his arm in favor of tangling her fingers into the back of his jacket and resting her head against his shoulder blades.

The warehouse seemed to go on for miles as they passed through a mad scientist’s lair, a room filled fog and ghostly wailing, and a Victorian style vampire’s dungeon complete with spring-loaded coffins. Keith was equal parts elated and terrified- not of the attractions, but of loss of hearing or limb from the girls.

Keith was in front as they headed to the next room, it was sure to be one of the last. He gasped, eyes glinting in delight. The room was bisected by a row of metal jail cell bars, holding back a small hoard of zombies. Grunts and groans filled the room as he walked into the middle, actors snarling and reaching through the bars at him.

The costumes wouldn't have looked out of place in a summer blockbuster and Keith felt like a kid in a candy shop as he breathlessly took in the blood splatter, torn clothes, and fake injuries that looked all too real. Pidge and Ina were in a similar state of awe, but Romelle's death-grip on his jacket wouldn’t loosen.

She screamed as she tripped over something on the floor and nearly toppled Keith into the zombie cage. "Is that  _ an arm?"  _ She wailed, jumping away.

Ina laughed and picked it up. Despite the bloody makeup, she bobbed it up and down making it wave at Romelle. "It's from a mannequin. Very well done," she turned toward the cage with a smile and set it down. "There, so no one else trips."

One of the zombies whispered a soft  _ thank you,  _ drawing another laugh from Keith and Ina as Pidge helped Romelle to the door.

Keith took the lead again, opening the door and pausing to let everyone catch their breath before continuing through the maze. With a quiet, determined nod from Romelle, they continued on. The silence in the hall was thick with foreboding; the hair on the back of Keith’s neck stood on end with the uneasy feeling.

Suddenly, hot breath warmed his left cheek, far too high to be anyone but Romelle, though she was ducking to his right. The faintest hint of a snarl made her shriek with terror, fingers digging into the worn fabric of Keith’s jacket around his waist. 

He moved without thinking, placing himself between her and the threat. His right arm wheeled in a desperate hook and time seemed to slow as his eyes locked with the presence. There was nothing he could do to halt the momentum of his arm, even as he registered Ina and Pidge gasping behind him and the poor actor’s nose splitting with the force of his punch. 

The zombie fell, groaning in pain as Romelle jumped away from him. "Shit, shit, I'm so sorry, are you ok?" Keith covered his mouth with his hand and knelt down, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight. 

The actor laying dazed on the floor looked to be in bad shape, though Keith couldn’t tell for sure with the sickly pale green makeup covering his face and mixture of fake and real blood dripping down his nose and chin. They stared at each other uncomfortably for a long moment, neither speaking.

Ina ducked down next to them, cringing at the mess on his face. "Did you hit your head? I can't assess the damage with your face painted like that." She started gently scrubbing away at the makeup with the sleeve of her hoodie.

He shook his head and waved her off. "I think I'm ok," his voice came out softly, a little congested from the swelling and blood covering his nose.

Keith stood quickly and offered a hand, eyes widening as he saw the empty right sleeve of the tattered costume. The man took it and stood to his full height, swaying a little unsteadily on his feet.

Keith dropped his phone, and wrapped one arm around his waist, using the other to sling the man's arm around his shoulders. "There a quick way out of here?"

Pidge stooped and pocketed the phone, trying to keep herself from laughing. "He popped out of the wall over here, there's probably a staff entrance," she called, already running her hands along the walls.

"Little to the left," he croaked groggily, leaning his head on top of Keith's.

Keith swallowed past the lump in his throat as he slowly followed the sound of Pidge's voice, night vision ruined. They followed the strips of orange emergency lighting to an exit door, shivering against the harsh wind even before they were outside.

The staff tent was set up not far from the door, a row of space heaters crowding the entrance. Keith helped the man through the short walk, easing him into a folding chair vacated by a startled witch applying her makeup.

An echo of Pidge's laughter approached as Matt threw back the other side of the opening carrying a first aid box. "I'm guessing we got points for realism?" He asked as he began scrubbing at the man's face none too gently with an alcohol swab, removing blood and paint alike.

Matt tossed one of the swabs onto the floor of the tent and grabbed another. "Shiro! Hold. Still." He leaned back with a frown.

As Matt worked to remove the paint and check the extent of the injury, Keith groaned and buried his face in his hands. "He jumped out and Romelle screamed and... I'm so sorry," he squeaked out miserably turning to Shiro. "I can take you to the ER if you want, your nose might be broken." He peeked through his splayed fingers before dropping his hands back to his side, bottom jaw nearly following. 

With most of the paint and blood washed away, he was easily the most gorgeous man Keith had ever seen in the flesh. He swallowed hard, mouth suddenly bone dry. 

"It's fine, I got too close," Shiro said with a chuckle, wincing as Matt pressed harder. "Your girlfriend's lucky to have someone who will protect her like that," he laughed awkwardly.

Keith's face flushed. "Oh, we're not," he stammered licking his lips. "We're just friends. Not... not that."

Shiro stared up at Keith like a deer in the headlights while Matt grabbed a cloth, holding it to his nose and tilting his head to staunch the blood, continuing to wipe off as much of the mess as he could with his other hand. "Oh my god," Matt murmured. 

Pidge cackled as she leaned up against Ina. "Keith! Offer to make it up to him with dinner," she stage-whispered through her continued fit, setting Ina and Romelle off as well.

Keith swallowed hard, face paling and eyes going wide. "Actually, if you want," he bit his lip as he looked down at Shiro. "Or, I mean I did almost break your nose, so if you want me to just leave..." He trailed off with a cringe.

Shiro's answering smile had Keith's heart pounding. "Dinner sounds good," he replied breathlessly.

"Cool," Keith whispered.

Matt cleared his throat. "Your nose isn't broken, if you still care about that." He glared down at Shiro. “You are going to have a hideous shiner though.” 

Shiro laughed. "Does getting punched in the face get me the rest of the night off at least?" He asked with a wry smile.

Shaking his head, Matt sighed. "I don't know where else I'm going to find a real one-armed zombie but I guess I can make it work. Have fun." Wrinkling his nose as he picked up the trash, Matt tossed it into a bin and poured a generous helping of hand sanitizer into his palm.

Keith turned with a guilty smile towards his friends. "Uh, should probably take you guys home first," he mumbled, face still bright red.

Romelle silenced Pidge and Ina with a harsh look before they could respond. "It's fine! We'll just call Hunk. Go enjoy your date!"

Keith puffed out his cheeks and was about to protest, but a sidelong glance towards Shiro's soft blushing smile changed his mind. "Thanks, Ellie," he murmured, pulling her in for a quick hug.

Romelle winked and gave him a thumbs up, turning to Pidge and Ina to shoo them from the tent, already pulling out her phone.

As his friends left, Keith turned around and took a few steps closer to Shiro. Even with the swelling on his nose and the edges of his face covered in half-smeared paint, he was stunning. Keith's eyes couldn't find a spot to land as they roved over him. "Since, uh, since I punched you," he laughed awkwardly, "Feel free to pick wherever you want. My treat."

Shiro ducked his head behind his long bangs and smiled. "Matt? You wanna give us a minute?" He glared at Matt's back as he was setting up another makeup station.

"Uh, no? I work here. Flirt somewhere else," Matt replied crossly. "Preferably far away."

Shiro rolled his eyes. "Maybe we should figure it out in the car?" He nodded towards the tent’s entrance.

Keith nodded, holding back the flap to let Shiro exit in front of him. "Oh, there might be some more actors running around, try not to go all ninja on anyone else," Shiro teased as they headed across the parking lot.

Groaning, Keith covered his face in his hands again. "I feel  _ so  _ bad about that. Really, I," he shook his head, trailing off.

Shiro laughed and nudged their shoulders together. "It's ok, it didn't hurt that bad."

"You couldn't walk by yourself for like 10 minutes," Keith deadpanned, dropping his hands and narrowing his eyes.

Shiro whistled innocently. "Maybe I just wanted the help." He turned towards Keith with a small grin.

They both blushed and looked away. "Any thoughts on dinner, then? I'm pretty easy," Shiro cleared his throat. "I mean, for food. I'm not picky."

Keith felt like he'd suddenly forgotten every restaurant in the tristate area as he wracked his brain for a suggestion. "Not pizza," he mumbled, desperate to suggest something.

Shiro raised an eyebrow but didn’t mention the odd request. “Burgers then?” 

Keith shrugged. “Works for me.” 

His heart pounded through the rest of the walk to the car, but the conversation flowed easily through the drive and all through dinner. They got plenty of odd looks, between Shiro's eyes slowly becoming encircled by twin purple half-moons and both of them covered in blood and makeup, but neither of them spared it a second thought. Burgers and milkshakes faded into empty plates and glasses and the diner was closing before either of them were ready to say good night. 

Keith pulled into the abandoned  _ ScareHouse  _ parking lot a few spaces away from Shiro's car, killing the engine and looking over at his passenger with a shy smile.  

Shiro unbuckled his seatbelt and nodded towards the door. “Walk me to my car?” He asked hopefully. 

Keith nodded, hands trembling as he unclipped his own seatbelt and got out. 

They paused at the driver's side door to Shiro's car. “So that was really fun, but if we're gonna see each other again, I have a question I really need to ask.” Shiro's face was a stone mask, all cold severity. 

Keith's face paled and his heart felt like it was rearranging his rib cage. “Yeah?” It came out a breathless whisper. 

Shiro laughed, stoic facade crumbling as he put his hand on his hip. “Do you really not like pizza? I don't know if I can date a guy who doesn't like pizza.” His lopsided smile had Keith laughing as well. 

He held up his hands defensively. "Course I like pizza, my just mom went overboard on my birthday lunch. Gonna have pizza in the fridge for days."

Shiro's eyes widened. "Wait, it's your birthday? Today?"

Keith's blush darkened as he looked up at Shiro's blinding smile. He was breathtaking, even with his swollen nose and black eyes. Keith nodded, not trusting his voice.

Shiro licked his lips and closed the gap between them until they stood nearly chest to chest. He brought his hand up and gently cupped Keith's chin. "If I'm reading this wrong, feel free to punch me again, but," he swallowed nervously. "Happy birthday, Keith."

Keith's eyes slid shut as their lips met, a soft ghost of a kiss in the pale light of the moon. It was the best birthday present he’d ever gotten. 

  
  



End file.
